It seems my role in the world is shaping in front of me. Aside from father, husband, instructional designer, etc., I’m beginning to see myself as a curator of sorts. This blog is ground zero, but I have and will venture out from time to time to curate craft beer and indie rock cultures.

Well, it has with my involvement in the Columbia Beer Enthusiasts. I helped create and manage their online presence while doing my part to create events that promote craft beer to all of Middle Missouri. I’ve even been asked to host some beer/ice cream/record pairing events, but that’s still top-secret. I’ll let you know when this materializes.

All of this curating comes together in written form on the blog you’re reading right now. Hopefully, it will eventually materialize on actual paper, but that’s a work in progress. I may have to back off and curate some other writers to accomplish this goal…

Anyways, the point is that if we can’t create, we should curate. Consuming thoughtfully is good, but it barely contributes to the cause. Curating promotes a culture to the masses, encouraging others to join in or at least appreciate said culture. Maybe I should just change the blog’s name to Curating Beer and Pavement…

Or not. Thanks for reading once again and participating in the conversation.

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I’m currently reading Talking to Girls About Duran Duran by Rob Sheffield[1]. The premise is basically that the author has a million and one stories about trying to explain his love for music to various girls and women. He’s confused about how to talk to girls and music is all he can talk about. It’s a relaxing read before I go to bed every night. I like reading about others’ obsession with rock music. It makes me feel as though this coalition is bigger than I once thought.

The book got me thinking about my relationships with girls and women and the music over which I obsess. I haven’t normally had to explain a lot to the women in my life, but there have been times when I felt it was necessary. There is my sister who used to stay home from school and secretly dub all of my CD’s while I was at school or practice. Now, she influences my tastes as much as anyone. There are the infinite female friends who show me up indie-geek-style on a regular basis. Still, I’ve generally dated or pined over women who don’t share my obsession, at least not to the extent I do[2].

I mean, in the beginning, they were barely a band. Hell, throughout their history, Pavement was barely a real band. Only through years of familiarity and SM’s drive did they begin to resemble a seasoned and cohesive unit. Who needs rehearsal, right? Overdubs? What’s that?

How do you make sense of that? How do you get your girlfriend excited over a band that probably will tune their guitars for most of the set? How do you explain that you actually like Stephen Malkmus’ voice? Why does every song have an inside joke?

Eventually, I quit explaining. Maybe I’d make a mix tape or take a girl to a show, but I lost the need to explain myself. Simply presenting the band as is became sufficient. You can like them or not. I don’t care. I do.

Still, there’s this compulsive need to talk to girls and women about the things we love, particularly bands[4]. I don’t know what it is, but I do it. I’ll tell my partner about this new band or record. If she doesn’t care for the music, she’ll change the subject. If she likes the music, she’ll humor me. Even then, I can only talk for so long before she grows bored.

And it’s not just my wife. At some point, Pavement or some review I wrote on this or past blogs comes up in conversations with other women[5]. The conversation turns south either at the moment I hit over-saturation or I inadvertently insult someone’s favorite band. Still, I go on. I can’t stop.

Now, there’s a new girl in my life. She’s only two, but she’s incredibly responsive to music. Lucia[6] goes through phases with songs. Right now – and for quite a while now – she’s obsessed over Sufjan Stevens’ “Chicago” and she’ll periodically pick up on new instruments or sounds she didn’t notice before. Lu’s incredibly attuned to music.

Just the other night, she asked me to sing. She hasn’t wanted me to sing to her in bed for a while. So, I pulled out a song I’ve sung to her since she was a newborn: “Cut Your Hair.” She listened. Then, Lucia asked me to sing it again. I sang that Pavement song three or four times before I told her she had to sleep, but she was into it. My kid was into Pavement.

I’ll talk to Lucia about Pavement and other bands, but she doesn’t care. She knows that one Yo Gabba Gabba song gets her to move. She knows that she loves the chorus to Deerhoof’s “Milkman.” And she knows that she loves the “Ooh Ooh Song” daddy sings to her at night. It’s not important why. It just feels right. It makes her happy.

So, I start to wonder if I really do have to talk to girls about Pavement. Of course, like any kind of art, we should discuss it, but do we have to tear it apart and dissect every note and lyric? Probably not. Does it have a good beat that makes you want to dance? Can you sing with it? I think girls and women can get Pavement as much as I do. I don’t have to figure Pavement out for them[7].

It all makes me think of this Eef Barzelay[8] song, “Girls Don’t Care.” It can come off as condescending or slightly sexist, superficial and stereotypical at best. However, that’s not the point[9]. Listen.

Maybe so much talking isn’t necessary. Maybe we can just enjoy music or beer or whatever. Sure, part of the enjoyment is some nice conversation, but obsessing begins to dilute that enjoyment. The conversation and what consumes us should be the people with which we’re sharing the experience. The girl or woman (or whomever) you’re talking to is what’s important.

This explains a lot about my history with women. Now I know why so many girls lost interest in me when I talked about The Graduate[10] or played another Guided By Voices seven inch. That stuff is fine, but they were interested in me and possibly wanted me to be more interested in them. I guess I figured this out[11]. Hopefully, I’ll keep it in mind as my daughter grows up.

I haven’t finished Talking to Girls About Duran Duran [12],but I suspect Rob Sheffield comes to a similar conclusion.

Notes:1This is significant for a couple of reasons. First, I honestly don’t read many books. I read plenty, but I have never had much patience for books. However, anything about indie rock, I tend to devour it. That and Sheffield’s last book about mixed tapes was really good.2This isn’t completely fair as they’ve all had pretty specific tastes in music. Some good, some not so good. Currently, my partner likes stuff like Sea & Cake, Broken Social Scene, Arcade Fire, Rachels, Beirut, etc. So, that works.3It should be understood by now that this doesn’t have to be about girls or women. It could easily apply to boys and men or anything in between. I’m just using girls/women because that’s how I related to Sheffield’s book. We’re boringly awkward straight dudes who could never talk to girls. That’s all.4Although, I think this topic easily could apply to craft beer or homebrewing. When someone writes Talking to Girls About Beer, I’ll rewrite this post. Until then, I’m writing about bands.5And by “other women” I don’t mean “other women I am fooling around with” just to be clear. It’s just conversation.6Pronounced “Loo-sha,” not “Loo-see-ya.” I really wish the nurse at the doctor’s office would read this so that I wouldn’t have to correct her every time.7I do realize the obviousness of this observation. Still, if it were so obvious, why do we boys feel the need to explain why this album’s great or that movie is brilliant. Don’t we prefer companions who figure this shit out for themselves? My point is that it must not be that obvious. It’s easier to make this assertion than it is to simply quit telling girls how to like music.8An artist I obviously love as this is the second post in this blog’s history that purposely features his work. Interesting that I don’t have that many of his albums. Maybe that needs to be rectified.9I’ll get to what it has to do with this post, but the song is more about idiot boys obsessing over things, aesthetics, and media. For me anyway, it’s not about simplifying things for girls. It’s about, well, I’ll get to it. Keep on reading.10My favorite movie ever, but I’ll save that for a later post.11Still, even after five years of marriage, I slip back into that mode of talking at my partner about this band or that beer. I’ll learn my lesson for real someday.12I love how this sentence makes it seem as though I still talk about Duran Duran. Because I don’t. Really.